+ jp FREY en camisole +

based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more …

August 16

1888 – (Thomas Edward) T.E. Lawrence (d.1935), or Lawrence of Arabia, is best known as the author of Seven Pillars of Wisdom (1935).

Lawrence was the illegitimate child of Sir Thomas Chapman and Sarah Lawrence who, after eloping in Ireland, changed their name by deed poll in England. Lawrence himself would change his name to John Hume Ross, when he joined the Royal Air Force in 1922, and again to T. E. Shaw when he joined the Tank Corps a year later. His experiences as a recruit are the subject of The Mint, a prequel to Seven Pillars of Wisdom, published posthumously in 1955.

Seven Pillars of Wisdom is a brilliant account of his role in the revolt of the Arabs during the latter half of World War I, a revolt instigated by the British in order to drive the Turks out of Syria and Palestine.

Lawrence chose Emir Feisal to lead the campaign and masterminded the guerrilla tactics that would contain and cripple the Turkish garrisons, especially at Medina, by cutting railways and telegraphs in surprise raids. But Lawrence labored under a sense of duplicity, knowing that the British had no genuine interest in Arab independence and were simply using the Arabs in the war against Germany. Though he mourned the brutality into which the campaign gradually sank, the contrast is striking between Lawrence's tidy and effective raids on the Eastern Front and the appalling waste of "human ammunition" on the Western.

Although homosexuality is the subject of only a tiny portion of this epic narrative, it plays a pivotal role in the psychological background. Chapter 80 tells how Lawrence was captured while on reconnaissance in Deraa and how he rejected the sexual advances of the Turkish Bey who held him. It then describes vividly the torture he received from the Bey's guards and, more obliquely, their brutal sodomizing of him. Lawrence, who maintained complete celibacy and hated even to be touched, never recovered from this trauma; he believed that he had been robbed of his "integrity" and his spirit had been broken, apparently forever.

Lawrence largely hides from view a later and equally discouraging event, namely, news of the death of Salim Ahmed, the young man who was the "S.A." to whom the book is dedicated. Lawrence had met Ahmed while working on an archeological dig in Carchemish, Syria, several years before the war. At this time, Ahmed (or Dahoum as Lawrence called him) was only fourteen, but they established a close friendship. Seven Pillars opens with a cryptic dedicatory poem, which hints that it was for the sake of "S.A." that he worked and suffered for the cause of Arab independence. When Dahoum died of typhoid behind Turkish lines in September, 1918, the revolt had nearly reached its goal at Damascus. In Seven Pillars, and more explicitly in his correspondence, Lawrence suggests that his distaste for the entire exploit in its last triumphant days was owing largely to news of his friend's death.

The authorized biography attempts to defend Lawrence against "charges" of homosexuality, and indeed anyone seeking proof of his orientation in sexual acts will find little evidence of any sexuality at all. But there is no doubt that Lawrence was able to form closer attachments to young men (such as Dahoum, R. A. M. Guy, and Jock Chambers) than to women. Meyers (Homosexuality and Literature) produces strong evidence from the letters that Lawrence was tormented by the knowledge that he had surrendered to the rapists at Deraa and had experienced a masochistic sexual pleasure.

On May 13, 1935, he suffered severe injuries in a motorcycle accident and died six days later. David Lean's 1962 film, Lawrence of Arabia, and Terence Rattigan's play of the same year, Ross, have helped shape the myth that surrounds this complicated and enigmatic figure. But well before these dramatic portrayals, Lawrence served as a model for the neurotic hero--the "Truly Weak Man" who must continually prove himself by acts of heroism--in the works of the angry young gay men of the 1930s, W. H. Auden and Christopher Isherwood.

1902 – Wallace Thurman (d.1934) was an American novelist active during the Harlem Renaissance. He also wrote essays, worked as an editor, and was a publisher of short-lived newspapers and literary journals. He is best known for his novel The Blacker the Berry: A Novel of Negro Life (1929), which explores discrimination within the black community based on skin color, with lighter skin being more highly valued.

Thurman was born in Salt Lake City. When Thurman was less than a month old, his father abandoned his wife and son. It was not until Wallace was 30 years old that he met his father. Between his mother's many marriages, Wallace and his mother lived in Salt Lake City with Emma Jackson, his maternal grandmother. Jackson ran a saloon from her home, selling alcohol without a license.

In 1925 Thurman moved to Harlem. During the next decade, he worked as a ghostwriter, a publisher, and editor, as well as writing novels, plays, and articles. In 1926, he became the editor of The Messenger, a socialist journal addressed to blacks. There he was the first to publish the adult-themed stories of Langston Hughes. Thurman left the journal in October 1926 to become the editor of World Tomorrow, which was owned by whites. The following month, he collaborated in founding the literary magazine Fire!! Devoted to the Younger Negro Artists.

During this time, Thurman's flat in a rooming house in Harlem, became the central meeting place of African-American literary avant-garde and visual artists. Thurman mockingly called the room "Niggerati Manor." He had painted the walls red and black, which were the colors he used on the cover of Fire!! Richard Bruce Nugent painted murals on the walls, some of which contained homoerotic content.

Thurman married Louise Thompson on August 22, 1928. The marriage lasted only six months. Thompson said that Wallace was a homosexual and refused to admit it.

1907 – Edward James (d.1984) was a British poet known for his patronage of the surrealist art movement.

James was born on 16 August 1907, the only son of William James (who had inherited a fortune from his father, merchant Daniel James and Evelyn Forbes, a Scots socialite. He was reputedly fathered by the Prince of Wales (later Edward VII).

After Oxford, James had a brief career as a trainee diplomat at the embassy in Rome. He was asked to send a coded message to London that the Italians had laid the keels for three destroyers, but got the code wrong; the message said "300 destroyers". Shortly after this he was sent "on indefinite leave".

In the early 1930s, James married Tilly Losch, an Austrian dancer, choreographer, actress and painter. James divorced Losch in 1934, accusing her of adultery with Prince Serge Obolensky, an American hotel executive; her countersuit, in which she made it clear that James was homosexual, failed. James was in fact bisexual.James is best known as a passionate supporter of Surrealism.

He sponsored Salvador Dalí for the whole of 1938 and his collection of paintings and art objects subsequently came to be accepted as one of the finest collection of surrealist work in private hands.

As well as Dalí and Magritte, his art collection included works by Hieronymus Bosch, Giorgio de Chirico, Paul Klee, Leonora Carrington, Pavel Tchelitchew, Pablo Picasso, Giacometti, Max Ernst and Paul Delvaux, amongst others.  Most were sold at a well-publicized sale at Christie's two years after his death.

In 1940, James stayed in Taos, New Mexico, United States, as a guest of Mabel Dodge Luhan, where he was known for his amusing, clever eccentricity and effeminate manner.

James most fantastic surrealist creation was realised in the Mexican rain forest, a surrealist Sculpture garden, "Las Pozas". While in Los Angeles, he had the idea to build a “Garden Of Eden”, but instead, he decided to try Mexico, a more romantic and cheaper place than Southern California.

James and his Mexican boyfriend, Plutarco Gastélum, a handsome young manager of the telegraph office in Cuernavaca, were exploring the Huasteca Potosina when they were surrounded by a cloud of butterflies while they were bathing together in a stream. James interpreted this event as a magical sign. So, in 1947, he began the construction of his vision.

Employing more than 100 laborers, he spent the next two decades transforming this very remote jungle location (the nearest airport is over three hours away) into a sensual Surrealist folly, funding the construction by selling off his world-class collection of paintings, including Carringtons, Dalís, and Magrittes.

1968 – Wolfgang Tillmans is a photographer. He has worked for fashion and style magazines as well as showing his work in art galleries. Born in Remscheid in Germany, Tillmans lived and worked in Hamburg at the end of the 1980s before moving to England. He took a course on photography at Bournemouth and Poole College of Art from 1990 to 1992, and then moved to London. He has subsequently been based in New York, Berlin, and London again.

Even before he moved to England, Tillmans was working for British fashion and style magazines. His work for them was apparently more spontaneous than most magazine photography, often seeming to catch fleeting moments. He typically photographed young people, sometimes clubbers or part of the gay scene, sometimes homeless. His work has often been compared to Nan Goldin who from around the 1980s documented Manhattan's Lower East Side in New York City in a similar snapshot aesthetic way.His initial work led to some degree of fame in the business, and within a couple of years he was photographing people like Moby and Blur's vocalist Damon Albarn in a similar spontaneous style.

Tillmans has become one of the most prominent and influential photographers to emerge during the 1990s. He profiles the lifestyles of his immediate circle of friends, working collaboratively with his subjects so that they lose their inhibitions in front of the camera. Tillmans produces raw, confessional images yet stays within the traditional genres of portraiture, landscape and still-life. His ability to produce powerful and sometimes shocking images has brought him success in art galleries and mainstream media alike.

As well as his work being shown in a range of places, both fashion magazines and galleries, Tillmans' work also show a wide range of subject matter. Apart from innocent, and what may be seen by many as rather banal, pictures of fruit or a pair of jeans over a bannister, he has photographed nudes and masturbating men. The kind of prints he exhibits also vary - inkjet prints are shown alongside expensive glossy shots and images taken from magazines.

Tillmans' representations of gay men are an important aspect of his art. While his representations of gay men are more abstracted than the sexualised images of Robert Mapplethorpe, Tillmans presents each of his subjects, including gay men, directly, avoiding the subtle homoeroticism of such fashion photographers as Bruce Weber or Herb Ritts, for example.

Tillmans won the Turner Prize in 2000. In 2001, Tillmans was awarded first prize in the competition for the design of the AIDS-Memorial for the City of Munich, after which the memorial was erected using his designs at the Sendlinger Tor. In He has released a book, Burg. His work has been featured in Arto Lindsay's The Subtle Body in 1995. The same year, his photographs were published in a Taschen book Wolfgang Tillmans (with a preface by Simon Watney).

In 2011, Tillmans traveled to Haiti with the charity Christian Aid to document reconstruction work after the country's devastating earthquake one year before.

2013 – Darren Young, professional wrestler with the WWE announced he is gay. Young, a professional wrestler since 2002, with the WWE since 2005, is the first WWE star to openly say he is gay.

When TMZ asked him whether he thought a gay athlete could succeed in the WWE, he replied,

"Absolutely. Look at me. I'm a WWE superstar and, to be honest with you, I'll tell you right now, I'm gay, and I'm happy. Very happy."

 "Love Is A Battlefield" (Bouguereau) 

Paul Newman and Robert Redford playing ping-pong during a break while filming Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1968).

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by Aiden

Always looking for a reason to party, Avery is having his annual Mid Summer’s Eve bonfire, celebrating fertility in spirit with others around the world. He didn't expect to be bred.

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Chapter 1 

The sun was high in the clear blue sky on the longest day of the year. The summer solstice was here again. This year was hotter than any Avery could remember. It wasn't quite eleven in the morning and the temperature was already threatening to breach the ninety-degree high for the day. 

Avery had spent the coolest part of the day, the quiet of the morning enjoying the birdsong against the melody of wind chimes dancing in the breeze. In a few hours, friends would start showing up for his annual Mid Summer’s Eve bonfire. 

Mid Summer’s Eve is a Pagan fertility festival, folks gather to celebrate fertile fields and look forward to the nearing harvest. For Avery, his Pagan roots only ran deep enough for the celebration. In fact, any reason to throw a party was a good enough reason to throw a party in Avery's mind. The last time everyone gathered around his fire pit, they celebrated Monday. 

By the time Jeffery arrived, the sun has sunk low in the west, barely peeking over the treetops on the horizon. The grill was fired up, the firepit was stacked, big logs on the bottom and kindling on top with some easily combustible stuff in the middle to aid in the fire starting process.

“Hi de ho!” Jeffery called out as he entered the backyard.

“Hey Jeffery!” Avery waved his hand. “Where’s Sam?” Sam, short for Samantha and Jeffery were Avery’s closest friends by far. They could always be counted on to make an appearance at anything Avery put on. 

“She’ll be along shortly. She’s picking up a co-worker she said ‘needed to get outta the house’.” his fingers curled in air quotes around the end of his sentence. 

“Awesome! The more the merrier!” Avery praised.

“Who's all coming tonight?” Jeffery asked as he sat on the swing under a grand old willow tree, it’s branches dancing in the evening breeze. 

Sitting down next to him, Avery listed out, “You and Sam, Tom and Laurie.” he stopped and thought for a few seconds. “And I think Daniel and Michael. Oh and Sam’s co-worker.”

“Oh, a small soiree then?” Jeffery joked. 

“Yeah, it's hard to get people out on a Wednesday. Even for something as important as Mid Summer’s Eve.” Avery chided the non-attending invitees. 

Daniel, Micheal, Tom and Laurie showed up together about thirty minutes after Jeffery, but Sam and her co-worker were still no shows. Avery was trying to hold out for their arrival before lighting the blaze but the group was growing impatient. “Jeffery, call Sam. Ask her when she'll be here?” he suggested. 

He was just about to hit send after finding the last call they shared in his recent history when two car doors were heard closing. “Here they are.” Jeffery pointed towards the house. 

Avery’s mouth went agape when the two rounded the house. In tow with Sam was the most stunning man Avery had ever had the privilege to lay eyes on. Everything around him faded unreachable. 

His latte brown skin encapsulated his lean muscular frame perfectly. His wide shoulders and chest stretched the fitted white shirt almost beyond the fabric’s ability to maintain its form. High cheek bones that held his deer-like brown eyes looked ruggedly placed over the stubble that attempted to hide his strong jaw line. 

“This is Antonio.” Sam made the introduction to Avery first. “Antonio,” she pointed with each name. “Avery the host I've told you about. My husband Jeffery, Tom and his girlfriend Laurie and those two on the swing are Daniel and Michael.” 

His strong extended hand engulfed Avery's when they shook, shaking knots in Avery's stomach. “Tony” he corrected in a thick European accent of some kind. The corners of his gorgeous pink lips curved upward in amusement while listening to Avery stumble through welcoming him to Mid Summer’s Eve. 

‘God you sound like a pre-pubescent punk!’ he cursed himself hoping the crimson on his cheeks would be seen as being from the heat of the sun, not a flush from the hotness that stood a foot away and four inches taller than himself.

Avery nearly stumbled over himself after offering the Greek God a drink and scurrying to the cooler parked next to the shed. He promptly returned with an open Michelib Ultra and handed it to Tony.

The sun had now dipped behind the trees casting long shadows across the spacious backyard. Avery stood in front of his friends and Adonis over there. “Welcome to our annual Mid Summer’s Eve bonfire.” he loved to make a big spectacle of things. “As most of you know, on this night, many Pagans around the world will be celebrating the fertility of their crops and livestock. Tonight my friends,” he paused for dramatic effect and lit a whistling bottle rocket. “Tonight we celebrate with them!” he pointed the little rocket into the center of the pile of stacked firewood hoping to hit a small bowl of flammable liquid he had placed in the center earlier. 

The theatrics went off perfectly. The bottle rocket sizzled to life just before screaming it's course into the center of the pile, leaving a trail of blue smoke along it's twenty foot journey directly into the center of the brush pile. A pop, a flash and a small mushroom cloud appeared simultaneously and lit the backyard aglow. The small group of friends and Tony cheered and clapped. Mid Summer’s Eve was officially underway.

Everyone was having a good time, stories were told around the fire, jokes and laughing drifted into the night air. Avery was clumsily flirting with Tony who seemed all too willing to let him, and return the gestures. The heat of the day that was replaced with a dark skinned hottie lit every fiber of Avery's being on fire.

As the night went on, the innocuous flirting had slowly grown into something Avery found himself happy the darkness hid. Tony had pulled him onto the swing, close to himself. His arm wrapped over the back of the slingback seat and around Avery's shoulder. His finger traced the edge of Avery's ear and down his neck dragging low involuntary sighs from his throat. 

Avery leaned in and turned his body slightly towards Tony and explored his chest and abdomen with light grazing fingers as he watched the bulge in Tony’s shorts grow longer and more defined. Avery's mouth watered every time he saw Tony’s shorts flex under the strain of his hidden erection. 

His fingertips slid farther down Tony’s rippled stomach with each stroke until they were tracing the length of his shaft through the khaki fabric that still confined it’s mass. Stroking back and forth, Avery's hand pressed a little harder, getting a better understanding of the width of what he was toying with. 

From across the yard, Jeffery announced that he and Sam we're about to leave, giving Tony notice that his ride would be ready soon. “Ok.” Was there a dirtiness to his accent when he replied? It was probably all in Avery's now gutter filled mind but he didn't care. All it did was run chills through him.

He moved into Tony’s ear, his warm breath carressing the skin of it as he whispered soft and low. “You should stay.” The needy little whine of his invitation even surprising himself. 

Tony flashed a dangerous smile that pushed up into his eyes sending anticipation coursing through Avery's body. The whites of his eyes and his pretty white teeth seemed to glow in the moonlight. 

“Hey guys,” Tony called out loud enough to be heard but quiet enough for close to midnight in a subdivision that should be asleep. “Avery has invited me to stay.” His dangerous grin flashed again. “He'll give me a ride home in the morning.” That damn grin!

‘Fuck!’ Avery's face must have turned as red the sunset a few hours back. It wasn't a secret that he was gay, but the way Tony said ‘invited me to stay’ sent a sweet thrill of humiliation straight to his own aching cock. 

“Oh?” Sam cooed somewhere from the darkness. “Awesome! You boys don't do anything I wouldn't do!” she commanded with an expecting giggle. 

“That leaves the door pretty much wide open then.” Jeffery crooned from somewhere close to where Sam had spoke. 

Tony chuckled low and dirty pulling whimper from Avery that didn't have permission to come out. “I might.” he responded back to his co-worker.

Their departure was quiet after that, leaving Avery alone with a man he needed to be devoured by once the car doors were shut and the car motored out of sound range. Avery's anticipation grew with every passing second.

Still sitting close in the swing, Avery's hand still gripped onto Tony's hardness through the tan material, his hand softly cupped Avery's cheek. “Thank you for this.” Tony whispered before his lips quickly took command of Avery's mouth. 

When Avery parted his lips to let Tony's tongue explore uninhibited, another whimper escaped into the other man's mouth. Tony licked across Avery's tongue and across his teeth before Avery joined in the erotic dance. Their tongues tangled and untangled with each other as Tony skillfully consumed every unpermitted dirty sound Avery made. 

His hands owned Avery's body, they traced up and down his sides and across his chest before stopping to tweak the erect points on each of Avery's pecks. “Antonio!” Avery whined, his voice ripe with need. 

Avery pulled back from Tony's hungry kiss. His eyes begged for more when Tony grinned again, just as devilish as the last. He slid off of the vinyl swing seat and crawled in between Tony's legs. Avery's eyes locked into Tony's, their eyes communicating each of their needs, his hands explored Tonys strong legs.

Without leaving the deep brown of Tony's eyes, Avery untied the string that held Tony's shorts tight against his creamy brown skin. He locked his thumbs in Tony's waistband on either side and shimmied the fabric down over his hips. Tony raised up off of the swing to allow Avery to entirely disrobe him. 

“No boxers” Avery made a mental note as the shorts fell to the grass as his hands moved back up Tony’s we'll defined quads.

He was at eye level with nine inches of thick brown cock running straight up Tony's belly, past his naval. The brown veiny skin contrasted nicely against the lighter brown of Tony's body. His enormous balls hung low between his legs causing Avery to unconsciously lick his lips.

Tony smiled down at Avery before putting his hand on the back of Avery's head. With a gentle but firm pull, Avery's head was pushed into Tony's crotch. He breathed in the musk of it and his body quivered. 

‘Holy fuck’ Avery whined internally. Tony’s spicy essence mixed with the day’s musk did crazy things to Avery’s mind.

Pushing his tongue through his lips, Avery licked the salty skin in the crease of Tony's leg. When Tony lightened the force he held Avery's head with, Avery lapped up and down the length of Tony's thick shaft before moving down, making his tongue dance along the skin of each enlarged testicle. The scent of it intoxicating Avery into a dizzied craze.

Licking back up to the brown sheathed mushroom tip, Avery laced his fingers around the girth of Tony's shaft and pulled it up off of his stomach. He pulled the uncut skin of it down and licked around the rim of Tony's head before taking the head into his mouth. 

Releasing the skin that his hand held back, Avery sucked it up until it hid the head again. He lightly dragged his teeth over the hooded head before running his tongue between extra skin and mushroom tip, tasting the salty liquid that was starting to drain from his slit.

Tony was above him, groaning and moaning his approval for the way Avery was worshiping his cock. His fingers locked tight in Avery's wrecked hair. “Oh!” Tony growled. “Enough of that. I got something else for you, needy boy.” 

Pushing Avery away from his task, Tony stood and pulled him to his feet before tracking back in towards Avery's mouth and consuming it once again. He tugged Avery's shirt up, breaking the kiss long enough to pull the fabric over his head before his tongue re-entered Avery’s mouth. The cotton shorts fell easily to the ground with little effort exposing Avery's smaller white dick to the night air. 

Tony gripped Avery's seven inches and stroked up and down it's length inducing a series of sighs and whimpers from the smaller man. “You’re so hard you dirty little thing.” Tony whispered into Avery's mouth. Avery thought his knees would give out at any moment leaving him a heap of need in the wet grass.

“Over here boy.” Tony pointed to the swing and helped Avery up on his knees on the swing seat with his hands on the slingback bar. With his hole exposed and vulnerable, Tony slid is finger down Avery's cleft and across his sweaty pucker.

Avery wriggled the back half of his body around trying to guide Tony’s finger where he wanted it to go. Tony wasn't having that. With a light slap to Avery’s ass Tony growled “No!”

He knelt down, bare knees in the grass before spreading Avery's mounds apart sending smutty humiliation through Avery's body before he buried his stubble clad face into Avery's valley. His tongue prodded and teased the hungry hole he had just had his finger on. 

Avery yelped when Tony's blunt tongue forced it’s way past his ring and fucked in and out of it. Sucking in hard through his teeth, the hissing sound only inspired a harder tongue fucking from Tony. “The needy sounds you make for me are so beautiful!” Tony growled into Avery's needy core. 

“God, just fuck me Tony!” Avery whined, nearly begging the man currently launching an assult on his cavity. “Antonio...” he moaned, the sound of his name sweet on Avery’s lips.

“You're not ready for all this yet anxious boy.” Tony told him, dragging the other man’s need out as much as possible.

Avery felt a thick finger start to penetrate his spit slicked ass and cried out wet sobs when it slid past his wanting ring. He squealed uncontrollably when he felt the hot sting of Tony's hand smack across the skin of his right ass cheek. Instantly conscious of his surrounding neighbors, he decided it was too late to worry about them so he easily pushed them away when a second finger threatened his entrance.

“You like that don't you, you dirty little slut.” It was more of an observation than a question but Avery answered anyway.

“Yes Daddy!” Wait what? Daddy? Where did that come from Avery wondered briefly. 

His thought was erased with another scorching hot smack across his skin. He yelped “oh!” before humming against the fingers fucking into his center. “Please?” Avery cried. “Fuck me Daddy!”

“Almost ready baby boy.” Avery's European accent floated thick in the darkness. “You’ll get all of this dick when I'm ready to give it to you. Keep begging. You sound so needy.” His fingers relentlessly jabbed in and out of Avery, stretching his hole wide.

With Tony dragging his fingers across Avery's sensitive prostate with each stroke, Avery felt like he was floating on a euphoric cloud watching the dark skinned man working him into a frenzied heap of moldable clay below himself. His body involuntarily writhing against the pleasure he felt. It sounded like someone else whining “Antonio!” to Avery.

His growl surprised them both when Avery seethed “Fuck me! God please, fuck me!”

Tony withdrew his fingers leaving Avery feeling the loss of them before he felt the warmth of Tony's tongue pushing against his ring again. “I need you inside me Antonio!” Avery's voice sounded foreign to himself as he cried out in need.

Tony pulled away from his work of slicking Avery's entrance before he spread Avery wide and spit into him. He stood, spit into his own palm before slicking his own shaft, stroking the moisture up and down his own shaft.

“Ok dirty little boy.” Tony's voice rang out. “Here you go.”

As he finished his sentence, Avery felt the pressure of Tony’s cockhead pushing against his hole. He whined “Oh Antonio...”all wet and gravelly when Tony told him it was going to hurt.

“I don't care! Just fuck me.... Please!” Avery begged again.

His vision blurred as the dark world around him turned bright white. The mass of Tony’s cock entering him felt like it was tearing him into two equal parts. “Holyyyy fuuck!” Avery sobbed at just the first few inches of cock that speared into his core.

His soul settled while his hole stretched around the enormous tool inside him. Uncontrollably sqealing, Avery pushed himself back against Tony, The swing underneath him gave way and thrust him forward away from the base of Tony’s cock. 

Tony recognized what was happening and thrust himself forward as the swing retracted, driving himself to the hilt inside Avery. Both men were making unearthly sounds into the quiet night as Tony synchronized his motion to the back and forth of the lawn swing. 

Avery had never been in a position with so little control. Every move he tried to make pushing into Tony was counteracted by the ease of which the swing moved. He gave in and just accepted the dicking Tony was delivering. Punch after punch into his organs, he yelped with each until he felt a familiar pressure building inside him.

Each time Tony buried himself into Avery, Avery got closer and closer to the pinnacle of his orgasm until the endorphines peaked and he tumbled over the edge into euphoric bliss. Come shot out of his cock in ropes across the bottom and back of the swing he was mounted on. 

His wrecked hole attempted to contract around Tony’s cock as Avery unloaded everything he had beneath him but it seemed impossible. 

“Good boy,” Tony growled. “Come for Daddy!” His voice deep and commanding, sent Avery deeper into the pleasure centers of orgasm. His eyes leaking joyful tears while Tony continued to pound into him.

Tony grabbed Avery's hips and stopped his free swinging motion. He ground himself deep into the center of other man before howling into the night like some lone wolf calling for the moon to come down to him,bringing Avery back to some semblance of consciousness. 

Tony grunted deep just before Avery felt a flood of Tony's hot seed breeding into him. Unable to speak, Avery just panted like the dog he had just heard howl above him. Tony’s body contorted with each pulse of release into the man below him. 

When he released all of his come into Avery, Tony pulled himself out of the other man and sat wasted in the damp dewy grass. Avery collapsed also, first to the a wing before slinking himself down to the ground at Tony's feet. The two laid panting, their sweat slicked bodies glowing under the nearly full moon above. 

“Fuck!” Tony exhaled after several minutes of trying to recover from the erotic exertion of fucking Avery. 

Still unable to form intelligable words, Avery just hummed “Mmmhmmm!”

The two laid in the dark for another fifteen or twenty minutes, naked and cooling from the dew before Tony coaxed Avery to his feet. “Let's get you to bed baby boy.” Tony suggested. “You were so good for me.”

Under Tony's power, because Avery didn't have his own back yet, he guided them through the house and into Avery's room. With one arm holding Avery upright, Tony pulled the covers back and lowered Avery's naked and wrecked body in. 

He laid himself down under the covers next to the man he just took in such a primal way, now looking sweetly innocent. As he drifted off, out of consciousness he purred “Antonio” one last time before his eyes closed for the night. Tony pet Avery's head and lightly rubbed his chest and stomach before finding himself lazily drifting into his own slumber, the sound of Avery's voice purring his name fresh in his ears.

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